It had seemed to Chick that his own capture was the logical result of the activity of Nick Carter and himself in helping Marcos to escape the clutches of Solado and Miguel.
The cunning rascals would know that so long as these two clear-sighted, quick-acting detectives were at large, they could not expect to carry out their purpose of holding Prince Marcos away from his own country until they had carried out their treacherous purpose of practically giving it away to another government.
“They’re pretty shrewd citizens, I reckon,” muttered Chick, as he surveyed his prison. “But they seem to have slipped a cog this time when they left me here without any guard or ropes about me. I’ll take the liberty of opening one of those shutters and going out when the time comes.”
Chick did not try to do it at once. It was still daylight, and he knew he would have small chance of escape, even if he got out of the building, unless he had some means of leaving the meadows.
“As soon as I am outside, they’ll see me, of course,” was his reflection. “They could bring me down with a bullet, or they could drop a big stone or chunk of iron on my head, and I’d be all in. I’ll have to wait till dark. The only thing against it is that they’ll probably have some scheme cooked up before that to put me out.”
Chick rubbed his chin musingly. He had had experience enough with the seamy side of humanity to be aware that rascals of the type of Solado and Miguel were not likely to leave a prisoner loosely guarded unless they contemplated a coup to his disadvantage when he should attempt to escape.
It was at this stage of his reflections that he caught the muffled sound of voices. They seemed to come from a corner of his cellar that was a little darker than any other part—if that could be possible.
He stepped softly to the corner and listened. At the same time he detected a dull light close to the wall, which he found came from a place where the stone partition had slightly crumbled away.
The irregular opening thus made was too close to the other wall for him to look through, but it permitted the sound of voices to reach him.
He heard only a few words, but they were illuminating. So Chick pressed his face to the wall, as near as he could get to the hole, to hear more.